His Veela Heritage: M Rated Outtakes
by RiverWriter
Summary: As the title suggests this is an M Rated outtake from my story "His Veela Heritage" written as a gift for Weestarmeggie's birthday. This may become a collection- Now officially a collection!
1. Chapter 1

**This is a birthday gift for my wonderful bestie and amazing beta, Weestarmeggie. We've often joked about my decision to write a veela story with a T rating and the missed opportunities. So, I'm gifting her one which means that this is technically an outtake from my story 'His Veela Heritage,' but you don't really need to have read that to understand this. That said, there are lemons ahead people, this is basically PWP. There might be more if you guys like it- let me know!**

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Draco was decidedly unamused as he surreptitiously watched his wife from across the room, over the _only_ glass of firewhiskey he was allowing himself for the night. His wife who was blatantly flirting with quidditch superstar Viktor Krum who had come to Britain to attend this event at Hermione's _special_ invitation. His wife who had disappeared from his side not five minutes after their arrival and who had not so much as glanced in his direction in ten minutes and thirty-six seconds. It was absolutely unacceptable.

It was an important night. The opening gala for Hermione's charitable foundation which she had quit the Ministry in order to start a year ago. Between his business connections and family name, and her fame, they'd gotten everybody who was anybody in magical Europe to attend, but it was still an incredible coup given that the first item on the foundation's agenda was to advocate for the rights of house elves.

His parents were in attendance, for Merlin's sake! Though he was fairly sure it was causing his father actual physical pain to do so. Still, it was a sign of how clever and ruthlessly determined to succeed Hermione was. It was a trait he'd found incredibly sexy until about two hours ago.

Because this was also their first night out since the birth of their daughter, three months before- which was the reason he was only allowing himself one glass of firewhiskey. He had volunteered to be in charge of apparition so that she could let loose a bit. He'd thought it had been incredibly chivalrous of him. But instead of rewarding him for his thoughtfulness she'd scarpered off as soon as she could while he'd been waylaid by the Minister of Magic, and had been flirting her way through the room ever since. He was fairly certain he and his father were the only men in the room who hadn't been on the receiving end of one of her sultry gazes.

But what made it worse was how confusing her behavior was. It was so unlike her. Draco wasn't sure he'd ever seen her flirt before, even with him. She usually just came right out and said what she wanted. The nature of their bond made any kind of equivocation unnecessary.

And tonight their bond was another source of irritation- bordering on fear. Because Draco was certain that she could feel his annoyance with her as clearly as she could feel her own emotions, and yet all he could feel coming from her was a kind of smug pleasure. Like his usually kind and thoughtful mate was enjoying upsetting him.

Suddenly, she patted Krum's arm and granted him with a brilliant smile, he gave her a kiss on the cheek in return. Draco bit back a growl. As annoyed as he was with Hermione he was not going to risk exposing her, or their little girl by outing himself as a veela, especially not in front of hundreds of powerful witnesses.

But then she glanced back at him and he could have sworn he saw something hard and challenging in her eyes. His veela nature stirred at the sight: challenge, whatever it was, accepted. She strode off and he waited only a few moments before plopping his glass onto the nearest table and stalking after her. He rounded a corner just in time to see the train of her emerald green dress- the dress he thought she'd worn for his benefit- disappearing through the door to the bathroom and then it closed behind her. He didn't hesitate before following. He threw the door open and closed it with his foot, throwing up a locking charm in one smooth motion.

She was standing at the sink, reapplying her lipstick. She didn't bother to look up though it was impossible that she hadn't heard him. "Where have you been all night?" She questioned.

He stopped in his tracks, about three feet behind her as he felt his temper flare. _Was she serious?_

But then she met his eyes in the mirror, and there was that challenging look again. She was provoking him.

"What are you playing at witch?" He demanded, grasping her hips and pulling her against him.

She ground back against him and he was instantly half hard. "Whatever are you talking about?" She cooed.

He didn't believe her innocent act for a moment. "You've been paying attention- flirting- with every man in the room tonight except for me. You were making them want you, when you're _mine."_

"Is that so?" She hummed. "I don't believe I belong to anybody. I'm free to talk to whomever I please, and I'm the hostess of this party, it's my job to mingle." She shrugged.

He sucked at her bare shoulder and made sure to leave a mark in response to that maddeningly nonchalant action. She made only a token effort to squirm away from him and he grew suspicious. "You have my last name. My child grew in your womb. My family jewels are around your neck," he nipped at her neck just beside where the infamous Black pearls were gracing her throat.

Her breath hitched and for a moment he thought he had her. But then she stopped trying to escape him entirely and began moving against him enticingly instead. "Your cock grinding against my arse?" She questioned, rolling her hips, and then she looked over her shoulder at him and smirked. "I don't believe I've allowed anybody else to do that tonight." She reached back and palmed his erection.

He froze as the pieces fell into place. "You planned this?"

"I needed to get your attention," she shrugged even as she continued to move provocatively, he was now rock hard.

"What were you thinking?" He demanded, as he viciously bit her shoulders and roughly groped her breasts in retribution. "That is not acceptable, _mate_!" He hissed.

"That's it, baby," she encouraged, and reached up to cover his hand with hers, squeezing one breast even harder and whimpering at the sensation.

He reared away from her throat in surprise. "What the fuck are you playing at, Hermione?"

His cock jumped, but he also became alarmed when she groaned at his language instead of castigating him.

"I've missed him," she moaned, reaching back and looping her arms around his neck to bring him against her completely again.

"Who?"

"The veela. You. When you're acting on your veela instincts." She tossed her head against his shoulder, offering him her neck.

"He's right here, love," he answered automatically.

"Oh, he's at the surface right now, but you've buried him ever since Carina was born," she countered.

"What are you talking about?" He asked, feeling truly lost, because he could probably count on one hand the number of times he'd made love to his wife without transforming. It wasn't just that the transformation heightened his senses and therefore enhanced his pleasure, but Hermione was at her most vulnerable when they were having sex, so he needed to be at his most formidable.

He was completely shocked when she bucked up against him and spoke her next words: "I want you to fuck me like you mean it, Draco. No more holding back. You saw me give birth, that should have convinced you that I'm not going to break- though I wouldn't be opposed to you going so deep I feel like I might shatter."

He was speechless for a moment and scrambled to gather his thoughts.

He knew she wasn't fragile, of course he did. All of the most extraordinary acts of bravery he'd witnessed in his life had been committed by his wife. The way she'd stood beside Potter, no matter what it cost her. That horrible early morning at Malfoy Manor where she never gave in, even under brutal torture. The way she'd accepted him, and then stood up for him against those she loved most. And finally, and most extraordinarily, the way she'd grown and then brought their daughter into the world.

But this was different. Or so he'd convinced himself.

There had been times in their relatively short relationship when he'd come home angry, frustrated, or just plain exhausted and he'd let his most feral instincts out and buried it all in her body. Used her as some kind of receptacle for his urges. He made sure she found her pleasure, of course, but his primary purpose hadn't been to love her. And once his daughter had arrived he'd felt immense shame that he'd behaved in such a way. Convinced himself that he should be better for his wife and this little life they'd brought into the world.

When he didn't seem to have any response to her she kept talking. "I don't know what's going on, so all I could think to do was taunt him a little," she reached back and poked him viciously in the arm. "Taunt your possessive side."

"You can have anything you want, love," he said automatically.

She snorted. "Really? How many times have I had to ask for it harder lately?" Which was true, and he'd obliged, but she was right, he'd been holding back. "I don't want to be treated as a china doll. I liked the way you used to take me, like you couldn't bury yourself deep enough."

His breath hitched. "You liked that?"

"You didn't know I liked that?"

"I thought you were just letting me have my way."

There was a long pause and he held his breath. "That's exactly what I want. You to have your way with me. I trust you completely, I want you to own it and everything that you are. I'm a veela's mate, I was made for this, for you."

Something snapped within him. "So you decided to provoke the veela side of me? Taunt me into it?"

She looked over her shoulder at him defiantly and he had to step away from her as his wings burst from his robes and he curled his hands into fists. She licked her lips, her breathing became shallow as she watched him. He walked back towards her and began to hike up the skirt of her dress.

"Well, witch, your wish is my command. But you should know you're playing with fiendfyre."

"Draco! We can't, we're in public."

He almost laughed at her sudden modesty. "I locked the door, nobody can get it. But you really should have thought about that before you decided to upset me."

"Draco, no," she moaned even as she pressed herself back against him. "Oh God," she whimpered as he worked his hand into her knickers, running his fingers through her sopping folds and then plunged two into her.

"You're saying 'no' but your body says 'yes.'"

"We're in public," she protested again, "I'm supposed to be in charge of this party," she added but it sounded even weaker and she'd begun to piston herself on his fingers.

"What did you think would happen?" He asked.

"Huh?"

"Did you think you could spend all night flirting with every man in the room and expected me to control myself until we were in a convenient location?" She writhed on his fingers but said nothing. Her expression gave her away though and he laughed. "Oh, you did!"

"What are you so cocky about, Malfoy?" She bit out but the effect was lost when she whimpered.

He crooked his fingers inside of her purposefully, satisfied when she almost collapsed onto his hand. "You thought you could hold me off, make me wait until we got home for me to pound you into our mattress, or maybe put you on your knees until you were screaming for me?" He ran his thumb over her clit to see how she would react to that pronouncement and was gratified when she leaned into his body, "well you miscalculated, princess."

Her dress was cut all the way down to the small of her back and he'd been admiring the curve of her spine all night. But it wasn't enough. He wanted her bared to him completely and so he unclasped the few buttons at her waist and then pulled it from her shoulders until it pooled at the floor and she was naked except for the lace thong where he was already working his hand.

He removed it from her body and carefully licked his fingers clean, holding his wife's eyes in the mirror as he did so. She watched him avidly and let out a shuddering sigh.

And then he pulled her knickers down her legs tapping her legs to urge her to step out of them, stood up, undid his belt and trousers and freed himself from his boxers.

"Draco," she whimpered.

He couldn't tell if it was a question or a plea and he was past caring. "Put your hands on the sides of the sink."

"Huh?"

"Hold on to the sink Hermione," he reiterated, "you're going to need it."

He positioned himself against her dripping cunt and slowly- just so he was sure to savor every delicious second- he entered her.

She cried out and smacked one hand against the porcelain once he was fully seated.

"Can I assume that's not a complaint?" He hissed. "You said this was what you wanted, for me to let my instincts run free."

She said nothing, just shook her head rather mindlessly and he began to move- holding nothing back. He wrapped his wings around them, allowing them to brush her shoulders, sides, and legs without full encapsulating her so that she could still watch their reflection, and she moaned at the sight.

He moved in her mercilessly.

"Watch us, love," he demanded as he pounded into her and then, with a wave of the wand strapped to his right wrist he released her intricately up-done tresses, and then gathered her curls in his fist, and tugged.

She cried out and clenched his cock at the sharp sensation. "So good," she murmured, head lulling against his shoulder.

"I thought I told you to watch," he barked, and her eyes immediately flew open. "Don't let me catch you closing them again."

He began to suck at her neck again and he felt the vibration of her humming against his lips.

"Please, Draco."

"What was that?" He asked with a particularly vicious snap of his hips.

"Please," she keened.

"Please what, love? Tell me!" He demanded when she opened her mouth and all that came out was a whimper.

She arched her neck to the left, fully exposing the area where he'd originally marked her, and he felt her inhale deeply. "Draco, I need you like this again."

"Say it."

"What?" And if he hadn't been so far gone he would have laughed at the way she'd gotten lost in her pleasure and lost the thread of the conversation. His heart clenched with love for her.

He momentarily slowed his movements and reached up to caress her cheek. "Tell me exactly what you want me to do," he murmured.

She took a long slow breath and then he felt her smile against his temple. "Mark your mate, my love."

She'd never said it like that before, as such a clear recognition that she was not only his wife, but his mate. And though he knew that she had accepted it- otherwise their bonding never would have taken- at that sign of her full acceptance he went a little crazy.

"Watch," he commanded as he began to pound into her again his own pleasure building from his aching cock all the way to the top of his head to the tips of his toes, when he saw her eyelids were once again falling closed. He almost couldn't blame her, she felt exquisite, but he'd warned her. "Hermione!" He barked.

"Too much," she slurred.

" _Watch Hermione_ ," he commanded in what she'd deemed his 'veela growl.'

Her head automatically snapped up at the tone of his voice. And he bit into her flesh. Her breath caught and her eyes went wide; then she actually screamed as he felt her come around him as hard as she ever had. It was the best he could do to keep himself upright as she pulled his own release from him, he heard his own shout, and she went slack and collapsed beneath him.

He stumbled backwards onto a sofa, which was apparently something that existed in women's bathrooms. He hadn't known that, but was grateful at the moment. He was still inside of her- he wasn't quite done with her.

He began to carefully massage her clit and she nearly bucked off of his lap, but he was prepared, knowing how overstimulated she must feel.

"Oh you don't get to escape me that easily," he chuckled as she gasped and writhed through another mini-orgasm on his fingers and half hard cock, as he gloried in the power he had over her.

He pulled out, but only to reach down and find her knickers, then carefully work them up her legs.

"Are you ready to go back to the party?"

"Draco!" She gasped. "We can't go out there!"

"Oh!" He taunted, "so scandalized. Like you didn't just let me fuck you silly against that sink."

"They'll know what we were doing!"

"Oh I'm counting on that." He chuckled as he secured her knickers on her hips. "You're going to walk out there with your head held high. My mark on your neck and my come dripping from your pussy. Tell me why that is love?"

She demurred, just a little tilt of her head. He pinched her thigh and she inhaled sharply and gripped his thighs in response. "Because I'm yours"

"Right answer." He rubbed soothing circles on her stomach. "And as a reward when we get home I'll pull these soaking wet knickers off of you, lick you clean and then fuck you into our mattress until you scream, just like you planned. I might even do it twice." He helped her up.

She looked at him with a coy little smile. "Maybe on my hands and knees the second time?"

"Oh absolutely," he growled and she stumbled. He caught her around the waist with a bark of a laugh. "And don't worry, love I'll let you stay on my arm for the rest of the night to hold you up and make up for the fact that I've obviously made you weak at the knees."

"Possessive bastard," she grumbled as she performed some charms to take the wrinkles out the her dress that he'd retrieved from the floor.

"Oh you love it." And then he called for Effie to retrieve him a new set of dress robes because his first set were a lost cause.

And, when they returned to the party, if anybody noticed that he was dressed differently, or that the new Lady Black was now wearing her hair down and covering her neck at one side, well there was an air of danger surrounding the Lord Black, one that hadn't been present in his younger years that kept anybody from saying anything about it.

Which only made Drace feel like he had free rein to track his wife down at every public event they attended and find a semi-private corner to claim her. After awhile she stopped pretending to resist. And in future years Lady Black developed something of a signature hairstyle, pinning her curls to the side and allowing them to waterfall down her neck. It was always the left side.


	2. Chapter 2

**This fits in between Chapters 28 and 29 of the main story, for those of you keeping up with the timeline (meaning it comes chronologically before the previous outake) but again, I don't really think you need to know any of that to enjoy this. Thanks to Weestarmeggie for dropping everything to look this over for me, especially when I just threw it at her out of the blue!**

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When their wedding festivities were finally at an end he apparated them home, where they'd both agreed they wanted to spend the night.

He grinned at her. "Well, now you're officially my wife and I'm allowed to defile you, what did you have in mind?"

She shot him the coyest grin she could muster. "I'm at your disposal," she cooed.

He jerked her into his arms. "You might regret saying that- hold on."

He apparated them again, this time to their bedroom, and then stepped back to admire her, circling her like the predator she knew he could be, but she could find nothing but pleasure in his gaze - he was regarding her like a present he'd eagerly been awaiting unwrapping.

"You looked absolutely beautiful today, but I can't wait to get this dress off of you. I want to be inside of you." He took her back into his arms then, after a heated kiss, turned her and began the painstaking process of unfastening the buttons that ran all the way down her back.

"There's a spell for that," she murmured, even as she leaned into his hands.

"I'd like to do it like this," he responded as he slowly disrobed her, leaving kisses along her spine as he went.

She was happy for his strong presence at her back, otherwise she would have feared falling, but she knew he would never let that happen. Finally, he pulled the gown from her shoulders, he helped her step out of it and led her to the bed in just her lingerie and heels.

He laid her out at the bottom of the mattress with her legs hanging off, and slowly kneeled at her feet keeping eye contact the whole time. He took one foot in his hands, carelessly pulled her shoe off, throwing it aside in the process and ran his thumb against the arch even as she tried to reach for him but he just pushed her back down. She huffed, then shook at the sensation of his fingertips against her foot. He smiled and began to peel the remainder of her clothes from her body, taking his time while she reveled in every brush of his skin against hers.

When he was done she tried to reach for him again. "Don't move," he ordered and shucked his own fine clothing- with a lot more haste that he'd done away with her's.

And then he was on her again, with one strong leg on the mattress between her legs he began to kiss her, all over her body- but he didn't move in any predictable pattern. He moved from her shoulder to her hipbone, her temple, her knees until she felt that she might go crazy not knowing where he would travel next, and yearning to feel the weight of his body on top of her.

"Please don't keep me waiting, my love," she finally murmured into his ear as he hovered over her. At first she thought that had persuaded him, but he wasn't actually done with his exquisite torture. He brought her hands up above her head and pinned them to the mattress and then rubbed his cock against her folds slowly. But he refused to enter her, no matter how much she squirmed and tried to position him correctly.

"Is this what you've been waiting for?" He teased.

"You said you wanted to be inside of me. It's been- it feels like hours and you're still not."

"Let me make that up to you then."

She actually breathed a sigh of relief at his words and he ducked his head to kiss her slowly and deeply as he positioned himself at her entrance, but even then he moved almost unbelievably slowly.

"I love this moment. This fucking perfect moment when we surrender to each other. I like to make it last as long as I can even as I'm just aching to pound into you."

She let out a shuddering breath. His words. His restraint. And then when he was finally seated within her he just held completely still.

"Draco," she whined, "what are you doing to me?"

He just kissed her and ran a hand down her side. And then he gently turned them over. He sat up until they were touching from hip to shoulder and joined at their centers.

She gasped. "So deep, oh my god, that's so good." She clawed at his shoulders and squirmed desperately.

But still, he wouldn't let her move like she wanted to. He held her hips firmly and began to rock them methodically. "Love, don't rush towards it, just be here with me," he entreated.

She forced herself to cease her frantic search for release and then, without conscious thought she began to match her breaths with his again, and then she could feel that their hearts began to beat in tandem. Their magic flared and she could feel how pleased he was with her.

"You are so perfect love," he growled as he gathered her hair in one hand, twisting it around so that it was up and off of her neck. And then she felt his wings encapsulate them. Brushing her back, stimulating her already heated and sensitive skin. It was nearly too much. She bit her lip and leaned into their embrace.

She quickly discovered that he was right, their sweat slicked bodies knew just what to do, as long as they didn't allow their brains to overrule them they would reach the place which the magic was trying to lead them.

It was almost frightening, how much she felt. The detail with which she could feel him moving inside of her, how much she gloried in it.

"Draco," she whimpered.

"It's okay," he stroked down the column of her spine, "I'm here with you, we were made for this."

She remained, nose to nose with him staring into those startling eyes which she'd grown to love. It felt like mere moments and hours at the same time; later she would learn that it was hours.

He began to nibble at her neck and she realized the end was close.

"Please," she begged, he'd not remarked her since their first night together and she hadn't realized how much she'd been craving it.

He didn't hesitate, didn't make her beg for it like he had the first time, his teeth sunk into her skin and she screamed and fell into a beautiful abyss.

When she awoke she was laying on top of him, he was still inside of her, and very much ready to go again.

"Hermione," he whispered ghosting his hands up and down the curve of her waist.

She shivered, though she was perfectly warm. "Don't you dare leave me," she rasped, and she absentmindedly wondered when she'd lost her voice.

"Never," he vowed as he carefully shifted their positions again until they were on their sides, facing each other with one of her legs tossed over his hip. He kissed her then- it was all tenderness- before he slowly began to move again.

"Oh, yes," she moaned.

"This is okay?"

"I know that you can feel that this is okay," she said arching against him- there was no way he wasn't aware of her bliss through their bond.

"I'd like to hear you say it."

"Oh sweetheart," she reached up and raked her fingers through his hair. "This is perfect."


End file.
